


Embracing Darkness

by writtenFIRES



Series: Egos, Inc. [3]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gratuitous French, Gratuitous Japanese, Manipulation, More tags to be added, Self-Harm, Violence, You Have Been Warned, and manipulative dark, but this is a dark and yan fic first and foremost, it's gonna be dark and heavy and psychological with a lot of yandere craziness, the other egos will make various cameos, this isn't gonna be a happy fic, tho maybe it'll have a happy ending, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11601060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenFIRES/pseuds/writtenFIRES
Summary: The more Dark hangs around, the more unstable Yandere seems to get. When he finds out the cause and decides to experiment with the possibilities for his own gains, will it all blow up in his face? Or will he create a true monster?





	1. Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based off some more stuff from [alcordrawns](http://alcordraws.tumblr.com) blog on Tumblr. Like the tags say, it's gonna revolve primarily around Yandere and Dark. Though third person, just a heads up that the POV will be switching from chapter to chapter between the two, just so we can get a clue as to what exactly is going on in their heads. ;)
> 
> You don't have to have read the previous fics in this series to understand what's going on, but they'd certainly provide some more backstory.

Dark liked to think of himself as astute. Observant. Well aware of not only his surroundings, but those occupying them. It was a key aspect of being a manipulator. If he didn't have a grasp on all the details, every last puzzle piece, then that left room for surprises. The unexpected. Things that could trip up his charm and psychological cues and alert his target to the truth.

Yet, it took him an exhorbitantly unusual amount of time to realize something was off about one of his own egos. The beings who lived and worked at Egos, Inc.; seeking to maintain their respective footholds in their creator's community and avoid simply fading out of existence.

Granted, the ego in question had always been difficult to read. He wasn't predictable like the rest of them. His emotions, personality and goals all tended fluctuate wildly from one given moment to the next. Just when Dark thought he had the ego figured out, he'd switch on a dime for seemingly no reason at all. Sometimes Dark wondered if the ego was even more unpredictable than Wilford Warfstache himself. Now that was a terrifying thought.

No, Yandereplier was certainly one of the more volatile, malleable egos. It wouldn't be such a big deal, were it not for just how _unstable_ the ego was. Try as they might to understand his triggers and avoid them like the plague, something new would inevitably set Yandere off. Understandably, that meant most of the egos gave him a very wide berth. Not that he seemed to mind.

Dark was not one of those egos. Dangerous or not, Dark didn't fear any of his fellow creations. Fear was a form of control, and admitting to or showing the emotion would give that control to whoever dared cause it. Dark would never allow it. _He_ was in control. He controlled himself, his aura, the building and all the egos within it. He'd worked far too hard to let anyone pry that iron grip from his icy hands. That included Yandere.

However, something seemed more and more "off" about the ego with every instance of their meeting. Yandere was never invited to the board room, but he occupied the same building as Dark. They were bound to cross paths even if Dark preferred the cool, shadowed sanctity of his office.

Most often, it was a quick exchange in the numerous hallways. Occasionally, they'd be taking a meal in the break room at the same time. Yandere never stopped by to visit Dark, and Dark reciprocated that decision.

Recently, however, some of the egos had been calling "family meetings," of a sort. Dark would always scoff at the term, seeing as they were about the farthest thing from a family that a group of people could get. Yet he attended the droll things anyway just to make certain they weren't plotting anything against him, and to be sure no one died. It always tended to be chaos when more than a few egos got together in the same room.

Apparently, during these meetings grievances and ideas were meant to be aired out for group opinion and approval or dismissal. It was supposed to help stop unnecessary conflicts and arguments which tore threw parts of the building and would leave it in shambles. Dark hardly cared; he only listened for the information.

These meetings were what truly tipped him off to Yandere's odd behavior.

They didn't use the board room for these. They would gather outside if the day was nice, or in the break room, or occasionally one of the nice sitting rooms that came with the building. Once or twice the meeting was even hosted in the studio. This meant the egos could lounge wherever they pleased, with whomever they pleased. There were no real rules and it became quite clear very quickly which egos got along with each other.

The Googs would always form their tight knit square in a corner. Bing would be nearby with Bop at his shoulder. Silver, Ed, Dr. Iplier and King would form an amalgamous sort of band and clump into pairs or one big group depending on their moods. Bim hovered near Wilford, always, with the Jims close behind. Host obediently sat at Dark's right wherever he happened to be. Artiplier and Yandere were the odd ones. Sometimes they'd be off on their own, sometimes they would be huddled together, and sometimes Artie would decide he wanted to be near the Host for a meeting.

Inexplicably, when this happened, Yandere would sit on Dark's other side. He wasn't sure if Yandere was simply protective of Artie or feeling left out, but so long as the ego left him alone he didn't mind.

Dark had to wonder if the subtlety of the changes were the reason it took him so long to catch on. Yandere had various ticks and warning signs to him, but it required paying severe attention to every little twitch and blink. Dark didn't have the patience for that sort of thing when he'd much rather be absorbing details about the egos he _could_ control.

Yet when Yandere began to twitch and fidget anxiously beside him during a particularly long and boring meeting, Dark decided it was time to delve into this peculiarity. At least it would be entertaining. Calling upon his most soothing voice, Dark probed at the younger ego with his aura while he spoke at a low volume. No need to disturb the proceedings. "Are you alright?"

Yandere flinched, head jerking to the side in a manner that looked almost painful. When he glanced to Dark, his eyes were wide; pupils shrunk down to the point it was a wonder he could see anything at all. The smile on his mouth was beyond strained. "Oh! _Yami_. Yes, I'm _fine_. Just a little tired from studying for my exams, ha HA ha HA ha...."

Dark slowly quirked a brow. Yandere's voice, while still sugary sweet, was clearly as tense as the rest of him. The words sounded forced past his teeth and his laugh wasn't the "adorable" giggle it tended to be. No, everything about the young ego beside him screamed "unhinged." Dark prodded a bit harder, attempting to ascertain the cause. "I know you must study hard. Are you sure there isn't anything else? Anything that might be... bothering you? Making you uncomfortable?" His dark eyes settled on Yandere's hands; his fingers twisting and tugging at his pleated skirt. "You're fidgeting."

Yandere burst out an uncomfortable laugh at that, immediately removing his hands from the garment entirely. The sound drew a glance or two from the nearest egos but for the most part went ignored. Outbursts from Yandere were nothing new. "Am I? Oh. Maybe I had too much caffeine this morning. It always gets me so excited, _ne!_ "

Dark wanted to grimace at the contrivity of it all. He understood what it was like to try containing emotions that eventually burst forth from a cracked shell, but Yandere was terrible at it. Host's muttered narrations at his back had changed tune, and in his peripheral he noticed Artie was no longer paying attention to the meeting. He seemed concerned. Dark made a mental note and pressed on. His understanding of the situation was deepening. "You don't seem excited. You appear nervous, Yandere. Am I... making you uncomfortable?"

He leaned further into the ego's space, pressing down with his aura. Yandere had never shown fear towards Dark before, but maybe something had changed. It felt like the power he pushed at Yandere just kept going. Rather than stopping and ensnaring or engulfing the ego, it simply... drained away. Disappeared somewhere. Dark didn't like it. "You can be honest. I'll move, if you like."

Yandere's muscles were growing more tense with each passing second. He was crumpling, slumping beneath Dark's looming posture but not leaning _away_ from him. He wasn't showing apprehension, but the anxiety was still there. Dark's ego was doing its job- or at least, he believed it was. Yandere's next words were forced past gritted teeth. " _Yami_ , you don't scare me. I'm fine. I just... I just think I need some air! It's too stuffy in here, ha HA ha...." The corner of his mouth dipped into a steep, nearly pained frown.

"Yandere..." Dark weedled just a bit more of his power forward. He needed to know where it was going. He could feel the Host at his back, debating an interruption. Artie was poised with feet flat on the ground and hands on his chair. Even Wilford, across the room, was beginning to shoot Dark squinty-eyed looks. He'd have to back off soon. His icy fingers touched Yandere's quivering arm. "I don't think-"

Abruptly and without warning, Yandere gave an ear-piercing wail. Immediately, any ongoing conversations ceased and all eyes whipped around towards the source. Several of the egos were cringing away or still covering their ears. Dark felt a rush of energy slam into him with enough force to push him back away from Yandere, giving him the space he needed to leap up. Behind him, Host folded over on himself and Artie toppled out of his chair. A quick glance at Wilford showed the ego resting twitching fingers on the gun at his belt.

Yandere stood, every last muscle in his body pulled taut like a rubber band. His arms stuck out to either side, fingers splayed and crooked into unsettling positions. As if they itched for a knife, or to wrap around someone's delicate neck. His head twitched ceaselessly to one side while he stared with wide, crazed eyes at the rest of the room. His mouth was pulled tight into an unreadable expression.

Dark could feel the power rolling off of Yandere in waves and for one of the few times in his existence, he was stunned. He could feel how his own aura tinged the energy flowing out of Yandere and his curiosity was instantly piqued. He stared with the rest of them, wondering what the snapped ego would do now.

Yandere heaved several ragged breaths through his teeth. The muscles in his face were all screwed up tight but he didn't seem to have a target for his sudden aggression. His eyes flicked among the egos present before he let loose a smaller scream, storming out of the room in a flurry of skirts. He'd ripped the door half off its hinges when he exited, and he didn't bother closing it behind him.

Various egos exchanged confused, wary glances as crashes and more screams echoed back from down the hall, but they eventually gave way to silence. Wherever Yandere had gone, no one was willing to follow. Hopefully he would take his destruction outside of the building.

Bim had come over the moment he felt it safe enough to help Artie back onto his feet. They both immediately turned their attentions to Host, who assured them he was just fine. Wilford, seeing how shaken the group was, called an end to the meeting and warned them all to give Yandere some space.

A lot of space.

Then he strolled over to where Dark was still sitting, contemplating everything he'd just witnessed. He rested his hands on his hips and shot the shadowy ego a suspicious, wary look. "And just what are you smiling about? You wouldn't have anything to do with whatever all _that_ was now would you, Darky?"

Dark glanced to the ruined door. Slowly, he clenched his hand into a fist where it rested against his leg. He could still recall that surge of raw power; how his own aura had been funneled into it without his knowing. He understood, now. He'd put the pieces together and the possibilities set the gears to turning within his mind. He tried not to look too smug as he met Wilford's withering gaze. "Of course not. He was already tense. Something must have just made him snap. You know how teenagers are, Wilford."

Yandere could feed off his aura. Yandere could feed off his aura, and apparently he didn't even know. But Dark knew. And Dark didn't plan to let the possibilities slip through his fingers.


	2. Experimentation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yandere is confused, but Dark is only just getting started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention it's Yandere so gratuitous Japanese...

The break room didn't exactly have all the necessities to make a classic Japanese bento like Yandere always wanted, but he could do his best with what _was_ readily available.

Today, that was making the cute little hotdog octopi he remembered seeing in the game of his namesake (along with a few anime he'd watched.) He wasn't sure how _good_ they would taste, but they _were_ absolutely adorable. He just knew his _senpai_ would love them; maybe even _eat one_ this time! Oh, if only. Yandere was going to carve every last bit of his love into these, just in case.

"Making snackies for _senpai_ ~" Yandere hummed happily under his breath. He felt rather content while he worked at the little counter, using his favorite knife. Lately, he'd been a little bit more strung out than usual, but he still couldn't figure out the reason _why_.

_Senpai_ wasn't ignoring him. He'd already gotten rid of his latest competition and the police were none the wiser. Most of the egos had been leaving him alone, which was just fine. Yet occasionally, he'd find himself growing... irritated. His skin would crawl, his thoughts would darken and his vision would dim around the edges. Normally, it would take some serious grievances to cause such symptoms. Recently, though, they seemed to appear sporadically out of nowhere. He didn't understand it.

Right now he felt pleasant. He'd recovered after his latest outburst yesterday and no one had the nerve to confront him about the damages. In fact, both King and Silver had eagerly cleared out of the break room once he took a single step inside. Some egos would enjoy such a rush of power. Others might be saddened by the fear in their companions' hearts. For Yandere, it was simply commonplace. They weren't his _senpai_. What did he care if they ran?

Unfortunately, he wasn't alone for very long. There weren't many egos who would willingly share in the same space of him, and fewer still who would dare to interrupt a task he was performing for _senpai_. Judging by how the temperature in the room plummeted, Yandere could already guess who the culprit was.

The smooth, husky voice shivering down his spine confirmed it.

"Yandere. What a surprise. I thought you might still be on your rampage." Dark was playing nonchalant. Brewing himself some strong coffee and giving Yandere the normal berth they all did.

Yandere knew it was more out of pleasantry than fear. " _Yami~_ I got over that hoooouuuurs ago, _baka_. I just needed to let off some steam." He plopped down another little hotdog-pus and beamed at his handiwork. There was no way _senpai_ would ignore him now.

"You caused quite a bit of damage to the fifth floor." Dark turned to face Yandere while the coffee machine sputtered to life. Yandere hadn't peeked, but he could feel those cold eyes on his back. "Next time, if you're going to suffer such a breakdown, could you focus your destructive tendencies somewhere else?"

" _Gomenasai, yami._ I'll be more careful next time." Maybe. Yandere wasn't really concerned about it, to be honest. The only thing he cared for was his _senpai_. Plucking up one of the uglier octopus, he popped it into his mouth with a gleeful sound. Yandere threw his arms up into the air victoriously. _"Yatta! Oishii~"_

Dark wasn't amused by the gratuitous Japanese. Yandere didn't care... up until he felt that chilling aura draw closer. "Yandere... you haven't been acting much like yourself lately...." Dark's voice scraped at Yandere's ear drums. He had a knack for manipulating his words, down to the very tone and cadence of his voice.

Two could play that game.

"Why _yami_ , I have no idea what you're talking about, _ne!_ " Yandere giggled and picked up his plate of octopus, finally turning to beam at Dark with all the sunshine he could muster in his heart. He kicked up one leg behind him and brought the peace sign up to his face, sticking out his tongue a little in his very best cute pose. "I'm just here making all these treats for my future _husbando!_ "

Dark wasn't amused. He stared down at Yandere with an indifferent expression tinged with the softest hint of annoyance at Yandere's antics. Back straight and posture stiff, he rolled his neck before offering up a response. "Are you sure about that?" The same grating voice. Yandere hated it.

He dropped the pose to pout at Dark, but as he did so, he realized the static was still grating at his ears. His expression shifted to confusion as he watched Dark's mouth, but his lips didn't move an inch. He wasn't talking anymore. Where was the static coming from? It felt familiar, but he couldn't recall why. Vaguely, Yandere felt his anxiety beginning to rise.

"Are you certain there's nothing... _wrong?_ Nothing out of place? You're feeling... just... fine?" Dark was looming again, but that had never affected Yandere before. Yandere had meant it yesterday when he claimed no fear of the ego. The only thing Yandere had ever been scared of was losing his _senpai_.

The static buzzing in his ears was shifting to a ceaseless ringing. He felt himself twitch. His grip on the plate became harsher, turning his knuckles bone white. Yandere's breath hitched as his anxiety abruptly spiked. It reminded him of what happened during the meeting yesterday, but much more severe. More rapid. It felt as if his anxiety was spiraling out of control and he didn't know _why_.

"Yandere." Dark's voice, one more time at the very edge of his hearing. The rest was occupied by static and a steady ringing and nonsensical whispers.

_Kill. Murder. Slaughter. Destroy. Blood. Make them bleed. Make them suffer. Feed us. Feed us. Feed us and thrive. Power beyond your dreams. Feed us. Kill. KILL. KILL._

Yandere's pupils shrunk to mere pinpricks. His neck snapped to one side, but he was numb to the pain it caused his spine. The plate cracked between his fingers and he drew in a sharp breath. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears now too, emphasizing every whisper.

_KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL. KILL!!! KILL!! KILL!!!!!_

A wail ripped itself from Yandere's chest. The plate snapped in half, then shattered to pieces as it was crushed between Yandere's hands. Bits of hotdog and ceramic fell to the floor. Drops of blood soon followed, as the sharp edges had cut through Yandere's skin. He failed to notice. He failed to acknowledge anything beyond the whispers in his mind and the bloodlust filling his veins. He wailed, again, and whirled around to snatch his knife off the counter.

"Yandere-"

Said ego whipped back around to face Dark. The handle of his knife was already stained with his own blood. Twitching and jerking messily in place, he absorbed the stunned apprehension on the older ego's face. Oh.

Yandere smiled. Not the cute, happy one from before, but something far more sinister. Something sadistic and cruel and _amused_.

Dark was _scared_.

" _Nani?_ What is it, _yami?_ Afraid? _Kowaii?_ " Yandere's voice had dipped to a nightmarish pitch. It swelled and dimmed with a silent laughter while he stared the other ego down. Giggling, he brought the knife to his mouth, dragging his tongue along the flat of the blade. " _Yamiiii_... don't be scared of me...."

Dark, though still shaken, moved to straighten out his suit and cleared his throat. "I am not frightened of you, Yandere. Put the knife down."

" _Iie_. I don't think I will." Yandere hummed in a deranged fashion, toying with the tip of his knife. "Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless..." Yandere's gaze snapped back up to Dark's face and he outright cackled with devious glee. "UNLESS IT GOES DOWN INTO _YOU!_ " He lunged.

Dark drew in a tight breath and instantly disappeared in a swirl of shadow and smoke. Yandere screamed with rage as he hit the break room floor. Just because his target had left, that didn't mean his emotions were subdued. He scrambled back to his feet, arms smeared with his own blood while he looked wildly around the empty break room. That same unhinged smile twitched at the corners of his lips.

"Murder for _senpai_...~ Killing for _senpai_...~ Oh _senpaaaiiii_... where are you, _senpai_... I love you so much, _senpai_... forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever..." Yandere continued muttering the words, dragging his feet as he exited the break room. There was no one in the hallway. Dragging the tip of his blade along the wall, Yandere sang softly to himself, still twitching as a mysterious rage coursed through his veins.

_"Ima watashi no negaigoto ga... kanau naraba tsubaba go hoshii..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last bit is a song from the simulator itself. Go check it out. Fuckin' creepy. I'm not gonna spoil you with a link though 'cause it's a bonus and you should be happy I'm clueing you in at all. :P Work for your Easter eggs!


	3. Analyzing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark rethinks his methods and decides to go back to his roots.

Dark would admit, he'd been a little reckless.

After the first outburst during the meeting, he should have known simply flooding Yandere with his aura would result in uncontrollable chaos. His aura was a powerful, ancient thing. There was a reason it had attached itself to him and never leeched onto another ego. A majority of them wouldn't be able to handle it. Just a smidgen of Dark's influence, and they crumbled.

The more powerful egos, the reality benders like himself, could possibly wrangle the beast. Dark wouldn't know. He'd never give any of them the opportunity to try. The darkness was his to master, his to control, and his to utilize as he saw fit.

Yandere was different.

Dark could feel it. Something about the ego called to his aura. Something dark and demented and utterly _twisted_. Perhaps it was the part of himself Dark often saw in Yandere. The schemer, the conniver, the manipulator. Determined to accomplish his goals no matter the cost. That kind of hunger was precisely what called the aura to _him_ in the first place.

Yet Dark's resolve remained. His determination and willpower were stronger; his cause greater. He was not afraid of Yandere stealing his aura away. The ego didn't even understand what was happening. He was just another pawn on the chess board before Dark. A pawn which had been elevated to something more valuable.

If Dark could simply harness this potential Yandere had, the possibilities would truly be endless. A puppet with powers similar to his own but trapped firmly beneath his thumb. Someone powerful he could direct without backtalk or questioning. He could still remember that surge of energy that nearly bowled him over during the meeting.

It was... thrilling. Enticing. Dark wanted more of it. He wanted it as his own.

He just had to be a little smarter about it. He'd gotten impatient and excited and paid the consequences. Hopefully, Yandere's nature would incite the same naivety it always did. No more looming or oppressive stunts. Dark was going to pull himself back, draw himself up and wield the persona Mark had laid the groundwork for. Yandere, while complex in personality, was simple in motivation and mind. A few key words and the ego would be putty in his hands.

Thus, throughout the week that followed, Dark put into motion his latest plans. Rather than confronting Yandere while he was alone or sending the full force of his aura crashing over the young ego like some ocean wave, he kept his influence minimal.

In the hallways, Dark would brush past Yandere as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at all. He'd allow a bit of his energy to seep into Yandere as he passed, but otherwise go about his merry way. Yandere never reacted in an extreme, though Dark noticed the longer he did it, the more tense Yandere seemed to become. By the end of the week, he would twitch the moment Dark entered the vicinity.

That wasn't all, though.

Dark crossed paths with Yandere in the break room several more times. Occasionally by pure accident, but mostly on purpose. He would hunt Yandere down and wiggle a bit of his aura into Yandere's personal space. Only he was aware of it, so even if other egos were present (which was rare), no one had a clue he was up to anything. If Yandere proceeded to jerk about or breathe heavier or grasp tightly at whatever he was holding, well, it was just Yandere being his usual, unstable self.

It wasn't just the break room. After the first day or two, Dark had taken to hunting Yandere down _everywhere_. Sometimes, he wouldn't even reveal himself. He would track Yandere to his room, or a lounge, or one of the board rooms. He would follow him outside and to the roof and the basement, lurking in the shadows.

Wherever he went, whenever he found Yandere, he would push forth another sliver of his power. It almost became a sort of game. One Yandere was completely unaware of. The only egos who seemed to notice the shift in Dark's behavior were Wilford, who was always the first to notice if Dark was off; Google, who had eyes _everywhere_ ; Host, being Dark's right hand man and wisened by his visions and narrations; and Artie, simply because he was the only other person who willingly interacted with Yandere.

Dark had no idea what the extent of their relationship was. It appeared to be a tumultuous, tremulous thing. A weakly held together friendship supplemented with arts and crafts and gossip and whispers of the influences in their lives: _senpai_ , and Red Man. (Dark was still trying to figure out who the latter was, much to his chagrin.)

However, none of them confronted him about his strange behavior. Either they were too frightened, or they didn't see any harm in it. There were always perks to being subtle; to taking the slow and steady route. It took time, and patience, but Dark was seeing more significant results than mere twitching and muttering by the week's halfway point.

Once, at the beginning of a meeting, Dark had drifted past Yandere as the ego was walking into the room. One little push and he seemed to tip over an edge; far smaller than the first two instances, but still a sign Dark's manipulations were having an effect. Yandere had turned to Artie, who'd been walking beside him, and thrown him into the nearest wall with absolutely no warning at all. He'd screamed, rambling about how Artie "wasn't his _senpai_ ," and then ran from the room after bursting into violent tears.

Artie had been alright besides a few bruises. He looked shaken and upset but that was merely a bonus for Dark. He'd ignored the way Host's face followed him through the room for the duration of the meeting and decided he wanted to see if he could make it happen again.

He'd succeeded. The very next day, Dark had found Yandere out in the lot behind the building. He was picking dandelions and humming to himself; the picture of peace and serenity. To any unknowing onlooker, Yandere could have passed for just an innocent schoolgirl- er, boy. It was instances like these Dark admired Yandere's ability to pose as nothing more than an angel. Were it not for Yandere's inability to maintain the charade once he'd snapped, Dark might actually have felt intimidated.

It was more difficult to breeze by Yandere outside, where there was less cover and more light. Thankfully, Yandere was prone to drifting into his own little world. Dark was certain the ego wouldn't have reacted to anything less than a touch.

Dark didn't need to touch Yandere to evoke his influence. In a sudden burst of rage, the young ego had screamed and pulled a knife from some inexplicable pocket within his garments. Like the reality benders, Yandere rarely seemed to follow the laws of physics. The only difference was the fact he couldn't quite manipulate them. With knife in hand but no targets in sight, Yandere had proceeded to slash and stab at the grass beneath his feet.

He'd screamed and snarled and hissed, spitting insults and threats at some invisible enemy while his blade dug into the dirt. Over and over he stabbed at the ground, falling to his knees and spilling tears onto the carnage. Dark watched the entire time, not deigning to leave until Yandere had crumpled into a heaving mess of tears, snot and saliva on the ground.

One of his personal favorite incidents had happened in the break room. Rather than whirl on Dark with murderous intent, Yandere had simply gripped the edge of the table and flipped it with a guttural cry of frustration. Like poking a lion trapped in a cage with a stick until it was driven to the brink of insanity. Dr. Iplier had been present and spilled his coffee all over himself. Bim, too, had very nearly been flattened by the table, as he'd been in the middle of breakfast at the time. Neither ego confronted Yandere about it before he stormed from the room in a rage.

Dark had followed, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips, hands clasped behind his back. Yes, this was the way to go about it. Continue pushing and pushing the other ego until his mind weakened enough to be manipulated. Until his aura could slip in and grasp onto the shell he had created without being sapped away into Yandere's own reserves.

By week's end, Yandere was doing his best to avoid Dark like the plague, but it wasn't so easy. Egos, Inc. belonged to Dark. He knew every nook and cranny of his blood, sweat and tears and there was nowhere Yandere could hide.

Dark would find him. Dark would push him. And soon, Dark would control him.

Paranoia was a dish best served _slow_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm dat good good manipulation tho. Pay attention to the egos mentioned here. You'll see. ;)


	4. Results

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love senpai, yes I do.
> 
> _I don't quite feel like myself._
> 
> He's for me, not for you.
> 
> _I've been having strange dreams lately._
> 
> **I'll make you feel right at home.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (:

_Kill... kill..._

Yandere wasn't feeling very much like himself lately.

_Murder... destroy... rip, tear, shred..._

For the past week, it felt as if he'd been on a steady decline. Physically, mentally and emotionally. He'd rolled into some kind of "funk" without realizing and couldn't seem to claw his way out of it, no matter how hard he tried. Every attempt at sanity, every grasp for calm, every chance for contemplation wound up smothered.

Panic. Anxiety. Fear. Paranoia. Anger.

He was just so _angry_.

_Feed us..._

Yandere would admit he had a bit of a temper, but the amount of outbursts he'd had lately were record breaking. Sometimes he couldn't even identify what exactly set him off. The fact there was no obvious cause(s) was what truly terrified him. If there wasn't a cause, then what if he really was just going crazy? What if his adorable quirks and tics were finally taking their toll?

Mark hadn't made a video on him in so long.

Was he... losing himself...?

_Consume..._

No, no he couldn't be. Sure, he was a little unstable, but that didn't mean he failed to grasp at who he was. What he was meant to be; to do. He was _Yandereplier_. He was sweet and vicious; cute and cunning; weeby and murderous. He had his _senpai_ , and his adorable uniform, and his favorite knife. He was a figment.

He had his playthrough origins, his animations, even a live action skit! Not everyone could claim that. Not everyone was as loved and remembered as he was.

If Mark's fans couldn't forget him, then how could he possibly forget himself?

It didn't make any sense to Yandere. He tried and tried to figure it out, but always the static returned to his ears. Always the ringing buzzed in his brain, turning his thoughts foggy. He'd get so agitated when he heard the sounds. The voices never stopped, they'd been going endlessly for a while now and even for Yandere it was becoming too much. He couldn't escape them. Couldn't escape _it_.

_We hunger..._

The shadow tailing him. The burning eyes in the darkness. The softest of footfalls. The hush of breath that wasn't his own. He knew it was there. Yandere knew _someone was there._ He wasn't crazy. He wasn't.

_Unhinged..._

No, it didn't matter what the others said. What Mark or the fans said. Yandere was a loose cannon, but he wasn't _crazy_. He wasn't _paranoid_. He knew something was after him.

No one would care. Yandere couldn't confront his shifty stalker, and he had no one to ask for help. Most of the others were scared of him; terrified. He hadn't cared before, but now it was a hindrance. Those who didn't fear him, didn't care for him. Or he knew they'd just call him _crazy_.

**_Not crazy I'm not crazy I'm not I'm not I'm n o t_ **

_Feed..._

Yandere didn't exactly have... friends. Dark had been an idol of sorts, before he started acting... weird. Wilford was almost like a guardian to Yandere, but he never took anything seriously. The Host, while occasionally matching Yandere's wavelength, was too anxious. The Googs held zero interest. The rest, as mentioned, were simply terrified of him. There was only one ego who seemed capable of not only tolerating Yandere and all his intricacies, but also _listening_.

And he'd shoved him into a damn wall.

It was less that Artie had avoided Yandere since, and more the other way around. After his outburst in the meeting room, Yandere had been worried he might lash out again. His actions were so unpredictable lately; his mind a darkened mess. Artie wasn't like some of the other egos. He was weak. His sole source of "protection" was a delayed one, and there was nothing to stop Yandere from shoving a knife through his chest.

No, no it was better to stay away from him.

Even if it meant Yandere had become incredibly lonely.

_We're here... we care... we'll listen... tell us all... give us all... kill..._

Yandere curled up tighter at the base of his _senpai_ shrine. He'd given up on running and hunkered down in his most sacred of places with the hope it would help _somehow_. He was so tired of running.

He was so tired.

_Rest... we're here... sleep... embrace..._

He hiccuped, sniffling around another stifled sob. He knew he was a mess. Yandere's uniform was stained with dirt and blood and a plethora of other culprits, his kerchief crooked and close to falling off. His long, red hair was ragged and disheveled where it hung over his face. His fingers, also stained with blood, were curled tightly into the strands; gripping and tugging. His face was red and puffy from crying, still wet and sticky with tears and snot. It was all he'd been able to do.

Cry and cry, and wonder what was happening. If the others had even noticed anything was wrong; different. If they cared. Probably not. He'd brought that indifference upon himself, but he never thought he'd _need_ their attentions. Need their _assistance_. He was caught up in the trap of his own scattered mind and like a disjointed hall of mirrors, he couldn't find the way out.

Yandere cried out as another wave of static and negativity washed over him. It was palpable now, tangible, tingling like tiny needles against his skin. His extremities kept going numb without getting cold. It felt as if all the colors kept trying to drain away.

He didn't understand.

_Kill._

He didn't understand.

_Maim._

And though he didn't understand, he still felt those eyes. Those burning, terrible eyes melting across the back of his skull and boring deep into his mind. Nowhere was safe. He was never safe.

He was drowning, and no one could hear his screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	5. Error

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Gomenasai...._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a doozy.

"Wilford. Do you mind? I'm busy."

"Oh, _sorry_ , am I interrupting your stalking?"

Dark released a heavy breath and knew in that moment attempting to chase Wilford off was a hopeless venture. So he turned to give the ego what he wanted: Dark's attention. "Why is it every time you speak, nothing of substance or relevance comes out?"

"Why can't you just deny it like a normal person instead of using all these big and elaborate words?" Wilford gave a broad gesture with his arms.

"I have nothing to deny or hide." Nonplussed, Dark straightened out his posture and clasped his hands stiffly behind his back. His face gave a subtle twitch when he sensed Yandere leaving the vicinity. _Damn it._

Wilford crossed his arms over his chest, resting his weight back onto one foot. The look he sent Dark was critical, but in a comical manner with squinty eyes and pursed lips. "Really? Because you seem to be doing lots of the second one."

Dark's eyes narrowed. He wouldn't rise to the bait. He was the one in control here. "What do you _want_ , Wil? I told you, I'm busy." He reached out with his aura, attempting to sense where Yandere had gone. However, bubblegum pink cut directly into his vision as Wilford leaned in close; distracting him. He resisted the urge to snarl.

"I _want_ you to stop terrorizing our little Yandere. He's impressionable! You're making him go absolutely coo-coo bananas, you antique photo with legs!" Wilford gestured to Dark and wiggled his mustache. He might have tapped into his own abilities a bit to mess with the aura he could sense poking around too. That was probably the reason Dark was attempting to glare a hole straight through his head. Well, if it gave Yandere a reprieve, Wilford would take it in stride.

Dark's expression showcased distaste, though whether it was because of Wilford's interference or the off-kilter insult was impossible to tell. "I'm not "terrorizing" anyone. At least, no more than usual. Your wild accusations still aren't amusing, Wilford. Go try them on somebody else." He adjusted his suit but didn't take a step back, much as he wanted space.

Wilford's mustache wiggled further, perturbed, but he did pull back a little. "Oh bull! You can't tell me you haven't been tailing everyone's favorite little murderer around for the past week. I don't know what you're up to, but it can't be anything good. And from the way Yan's been acting..."

"Yandere is acting precisely the way he always has. Unstable, violent and aggressive. His fits are nothing new, they have merely been brought more into the spotlight because of these meetings you all insist on having. If you're concerned about it, perhaps you should give him a pass. He can go back to sitting in his room and carving love notes into his walls." Dark was the definition of calm and poised, in contrast to Wilford's burning spitfire of suspicion and doubt.

Wilford wasn't convinced. Not in the least. If there was anyone who could see through Dark's honeyed words and "logical" arguments, it was him. Or the Host, probably. "I know Yan's always been a little... rough. But it's never been this bad. It's not just because we're seeing more of him, you pompous ink stain. Something's messing with him."

Dark raised his eyebrows in an almost mocking display of surprise. "You think so? Well. Be sure to let me know when you discover what exactly that something is. It must be truly nasty, to cause such a mess."

Wilford swore there should be steam coming out of his ears. He had absolutely no proof Dark was doing anything to Yandere. Hell, even he didn't really _know_ what Dark could be doing, but it had to be _something_. Something terrible. If only he could pinpoint the source, he could truly call Dark out and possibly make him stop. Like this, he had nothing, and all he could do was buy Yandere some time. His hands clenched at his sides, his fingers twitching for his knife. "Truly nasty's a damn good way to put it."

Dark hummed and, confident Wilford could do no more, strolled past him as if he were nothing. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Wilford waited until Dark was gone, then turned and fired several rounds into the wall after his gun had inconspicuously appeared in his hand. He stomped his foot, his anger bubbling just beneath the surface of his skin. Dark was messing with another ego, another ego he cared about, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Again. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath. He needed proof. He had to save Yandere from this.

In a pop and flash of bright pink, Wilford teleported himself to the Googs' room. Blue and Oxnard immediately looked up from their respective projects, but before they could scold him for the interruption, he started talking. "I need any information you have on what Darky-poo's been up to the past week. I know you have cameras all over the building."

Blue pulled a slight face, clearly displeased at being ordered around. However, Oxnard moved to the surveillance console and began typing away at the keys. "Our cameras do not pick up on supernatural or paranormal anomalies."

"I know. But maybe I can find something else." Wilford moved to join Oxnard at the console, then gave a quick glance around the room. He blinked. "...where are the other two?"

Blue crossed his arms over his chest. "Trying to assist a friend."

* * *

"What you are doing is dangerous."

Dark sneered at Oliver's words, but only with his eyes. His face remained passive and blank where he stood with the two androids. They'd caught up to him before he could locate Yandere, and the stream of interruptions were beginning to get on his nerves. He rolled his neck a bit, ignoring the way Orville's red-eyed stare pierced through him. The most aggressive of the Googs had yet to say anything and he was beginning to wonder if Orville only tagged along as precautionary muscle.

As if Dark would harm something he could so easily control.

"And what, exactly, am I doing, Yellow?" Dark's voice lacked any semblance of interest in the conversation, and the fact he called Oliver by his color spoke volumes. Orville's eyes actually narrowed a fraction.

Oliver, however, merely frowned a bit deeper at Dark's efforts to rile him up- or maybe it was the faux obliviousness. "Your efforts to manipulate and terrorize Yandere will only result in disaster."

Dark released a rough exhale at that; just the barest hint of a laugh, or a dismissive scoff. "I must say, I can't decide if it's more surprising or amusing that so many of you are suddenly taking such a concerned interest in the little psychopath." He ignored Oliver's furrowed brows and pressed on. "Why, just a few weeks ago you scarcely acknowledged his existe-"

A hand wrapped around his throat, covered in what felt like human skin but Dark knew better- they all did. There was no warmth beneath that illusion and the strength with which he was shoved into the nearest wall was well beyond human capability. He staved off the initial instincts to thrash, struggle or panic. Dark was in control. He was _always_ in control, even when it didn't seem to be the case. Coolly, he stared down Orville's burning red eyes. The android wasn't choking him; merely restraining him.

"Orville! No. Put him down. This will not improve anything-" Oliver attempted to call his "brother" off, of course. Yet apparently it was Orville's turn to speak.

"You will leave Yandere alone. He is of no use to you. He will not be a target." Unlike Oliver's concern and fabricated anxiety, Orville made no efforts to humanize his voice. It was blunt, clipped and near robotic; completely devoid of emotion. Still the fingers kept a vice grip around Dark's throat, threatening him to argue.

Slowly, a smirk crawled its way across Dark's lips. "Everything is of use to me. Even if that use is merely a back upon which to cross the stream. Or fodder for a metaphorical barrage of arrows. You miscalculate, Red." And the flash in those bright eyes could be from the name or Dark's bold claim. "I haven't bothered your little skirt-wearing friend at all." Admittedly, Dark hadn't even been aware that one of the Googs might have stronger feelings for the ego than the rest. He supposed their mutually violent natures simply called out to one another.

How adorable.

Orville squeezed at Dark's neck a bit tighter, just for a moment. The skin around his nose scrunched up for a mere blink and then he was grudgingly releasing the shadowy ego. Oliver still looked close to panic, though now it was concern for his fellow android causing the emotion. He grabbed at Orville's arm, forcing him to move back with stiff steps.

Dark, however, made no moves to enact vengeance or a punishment. He merely straightened himself out and gave his neck another good roll. There would be bruises, but they would fade before the day was out. He smoothed a few dark hairs back into place. "Next time, try to keep your attack dog in check. Or I'll have a chat with Blue about your behavior."

Oliver and Orville both watched him with their glowing eyes. It was obvious they wanted to argue; to press their claims about Dark's manipulation. However, even with all the video evidence in the world of Dark stalking Yandere through the halls or appearing with him in various rooms, none of it showcased him actively interacting with the ego. Neither through touch nor words. They had nothing. Oliver had hoped he could get some kind of information from the ego himself but Orville's more reactive programming had thrown them off. He should have brought Oxnard along.

(Then again, he chose Orville because Dark could be unpredictable and dangerous. Confronting him could have triggered some backlash.)

Unfortunately, after Orville's outburst, Oliver didn't think it was a good idea to push the issue. Dark was letting them off the hook this time, but if Orville attacked again the consequences could be doubled. No, he needed to take Orville back and regroup. They would think of something. Yandere would just need to hold on a little longer.

"Now if you boys will excuse me, I have things to do." Dark stalked off to hunt down his prey for the second time.

Orville was furious, though more at himself or at Dark he couldn't decipher. Oliver simply felt like a coward.

* * *

"Dark."

Dark's shell cracked vividly, a shadow of himself splitting off to the side with a silent cry of rage. Quickly, he reined in back in, turning to face the Host with a deep scowl and narrowed eyes. That was three times now he'd been interrupted. Yandere was receiving far too much of a reprieve from his aura. The resulting consequences could be beneficial, but more likely they would prove a significant setback.

The Host, while unable to witness Dark's slip, could sense it just fine. The temperature dipped in the hallway and static buzzed in his ears while he whispered anxiously to himself. He hadn't expected to find Dark in such a bad mood. Clearly, he wasn't the first to confront him about this issue. "The Host merely wants to talk-"

"Allow me the pleasure to guess." Dark slowly rolled his neck, twisting his head to lean opposite of where it had been resting. "It's about Yandere. The ego who, up until today, no one batted an eye about. Was there another meeting I was unaware of? Are you all planning to host an intervention?" His tone was cruel, cold and mocking.

It made a shiver travel down Host's spine. It had taken him so long to work up enough confidence to address Dark about this. He fidgeted, fingers dancing together at his waist and tugging at his coat. "The Host... is simply concerned. Dark is playing a dangerous game-"

"Dark knows precisely what kind of game he is playing with the mouse, Host. You should be well aware of that fact." His eyes shifted to the blindfold over Host's.

Again, Host couldn't see the pointed look, but he _felt_ that dark gaze bore into his empty sockets- even past the cloth concealing them from view. Ice trickled into his veins. "The Host believes this time Dark may be in over his head."

"Oh?" Agonizingly slow, Dark rolled his head to the other side, scrutinizing the ego trembling before him. "And just how am I underestimating the situation, dear Host? Do tell. It should prove _so enlightening._ "

Host hesitated a moment, then regained some of his determined resolve. His posture straightened and his hands dropped to his sides, clenching into loose fists. "Dark underestimates how Yandere works. He has no idea about how his aura is truly affecting Yandere. He was too quick to act... it was a mistake. Tragedy is going to strike if he does not rethink his actions. Yandere is too unstable..."

"Precisely." Dark's voice rumbled forth like a flood of the sweetest honey, ringing in the Host's sensitive ears. "Yandere is unstable. An enigma. No one quite understands how that obsessive mind of his works- at least, not yet. But that also makes it malleable. Vulnerable. Slipping my tendrils in has become oh so easy... it's child's play. And he is so foolish, so naive, he hasn't realized that all of his recent misery stems from me." His laugh was cold and sharp. "Did you know, once, he even called out for me? Begged me for help? I would have taken him then, but it was too soon. I want to drag the desperation out of him... like wringing out a sponge...."

Host's face tensed, his brows furrowing at Dark's cruel words. Clearly, he'd become too absorbed in his plan, in the rush of power. The thrill of control. These things were ironically Dark's weaknesses, much as they could be his strengths. "Dark calls Yandere the obssessive one, yet here Dark is. How much of Dark's time has been spent stalking Yandere, Dark? How much of Dark's focus has shifted from previous goals to this one ego? Has Dark's thoughts trailed anywhere else in the past week?"

Dark's cruel grin had dripped off his face. His expression was dark and stormy. He looked a little tense as well, and he leaned back when Host took a step forward. Host could "see" all of these things, and he knew he was winning this argument. Dark hadn't considered any of this. No thought to how his actions might be perceived beyond malicious intent, due to how concentrated he'd become on his aura and the ego it targeted.

"Is Dark certain he has been the one influencing Yandere? Or in actuality has Yandere been the one influencing Dark all along? Tell the Host, Dark, what does Dark's actions sound like-" The Host abruptly paused; both in speaking, and taking steps forward. A vision, brief and pulsating, overtook him in that moment and he gasped in a tight breath. He broke out into a cold sweat. "No." It was but a whisper in the silence of the hallway.

Dark opened his mouth to ask, recognizing the signs. However, before he could make a sound, Host was turning on his heel and rushing off. Dark closed his mouth and, curiosity peaked by Host's haste, followed after the blind ego.

With any luck, this would lead to the ego he'd been trying to find all day.

* * *

_"Fleur?"_

Artiplier slowly peeked into the board room. He'd seen a flash of red hair and blue skirts from around the corner ducking into the room just moments ago. It had to be Yandere. It would be his first sighting of the ego in days, and he was not about to pass up the opportunity he had been given. " _Fleur rouge?_ I know you are een here. You cannot teleport like some of ze ozers...."

Yandere stood facing a corner, his head lowered well past his shoulders. His long, crimson bangs hung across his eyes and completely shadowed the upper half of his face. In fact, all of the shadows around the ego appeared darker than usual. Thicker. More enhanced. Artiplier couldn't really describe it. The closest he could manage was a sketch with far too much shading applied.

" _Fleur rouge._ Yandere. It eez me, Artie." He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, edging further into the room. _"B... biju-chan."_ Yandere twitched, but otherwise didn't respond. Artie sighed. "Yandere, _s'il vous plaît._ Talk to me. At leest look at me, I... I promeese I am not mad at you. I am not. I just want to talk."

It felt like ages, but slowly, Yandere turned to face him. He did not change his hunched over position, but it was progress. There was a deep frown set into his face. Now that Artie could get a better look, what he saw made his stomach twist. Yandere's normally soft and fluffy hair was greasy and tangled. His uniform was rumpled and dirty, as if he hadn't had the mind to clean it in days. There were dried dirt and blood stains on both it and his skin, and more blood turning the normally gleaming silver of his knife a dull crimson. His skin was pale, and his cheeks were hollowed.

"Yandere...." Artie had no idea things had gotten so bad. If only he'd tracked Yandere down sooner. He knew it wasn't entirely for lack of effort on his part, as Yandere had been clearly avoiding him. Still, he could have tried harder, could have maybe even asked _him_ for assistance. But he was too much of a coward. "Yandere, what ees going on? Please, talk to me."

Yandere twitched again, swaying lightly on his feet. The fingers not tightly gripping his knife flexed and stretched where they rested at his side.

There was a light ringing starting up at the very edge of Artie's hearing. Anxious, he looked over his shoulder, expecting to find Dark there looming over him. Instead, he was met with just a door. They were still alone. Then where...? "Yandere-" Turning back around prompted a sudden shriek from his throat, as Yandere was suddenly a few inches in front of him. He'd moved so swiftly and silently Artie hadn't even noticed during his brief shift in focus.

Now closer, Yandere's eyes could be seen past the shadows cast by his hair. Heavy bags rested under them, yet they sat wide and near to bulging in their sockets. Red veins crawled across his sclera like writhing snakes and Artie swore if he stared long enough, he could see them pulsating with every beat of Yandere's heart. His pupils were mere pinpricks, almost invisible and swallowed up by the red of his eyes.

They weren't normal eyes. They were lost, unfocused and staring straight through Artie as if he didn't exist. Yet at the same time, they locked onto him, boring into his soul through organs and muscle and skin. They saw nothing, and they saw _everything_. He'd never felt more exposed. It was far too much like...

_"Nain rouge...."_ It was the barest whisper beneath his breath. A hushed accusation; a bold admission of his fear. He twitched his fingers and sucked in a breath. It took every last shred of willpower he had not to step back.

He was afraid, but he wasn't going to leave Yandere alone. Not again. He knew how it felt to be left alone with the demons.

Yandere's head twitched sporadically to one side. He watched Artie like a hawk circling the fields above. Gradually, a crooked smile broke out onto his lips, twitching with his every breath. His eyes remained wild and terrible in how they tried to pin Artie down without lifting a single finger. Yandere's first sound was a giggle, high-pitched and devious. Then came the words, flowing out of his mouth with all the fear evoking capabilities of blood. "You're scared, _ne? Kowaii? Hontou?_ Why don't you run away, _usagi?_ Back to your hole where it's safe and warm."

_I don't quite feel like myself._

Artie sucked in another tight breath, but he stood his ground. He set his eyes, furrowed his brows and clenched his fists, swallowing hard. " _O.. oui._ I am. But... I am not runneeng away. Not from you. I won't."

" _Nani?_ But why? You're _scared_. They always run when they're _scared_. _Baka_. Don't be stupid." Yandere snapped, confused and not understanding. He was glaring at Artie now, though he still smiled.

_I've been having strange dreams lately._

Artie shook his head. "I won't. You need me. You 'ave been needeeng me, and I 'ave... I was too zcared. But not now. I want to help. I want to know what eez going on, Yandere, please."

Yandere continued to stare at Artie, _through_ Artie, with those wide, twitching eyes. Little parts of his body kept spasming, and still the ringing in Artie's ears continued. He resisted the urge to look over his shoulder again and tried to ignore it. Slowly, Yandere's head tilted to the other side. "I don't... I don't understand. Why? Why are you such a _baka_?! Run away! Go away from me, _baka_! I've already hurt you! Don't you know that means you need to stay away?! Go! Run!" His voice rose in pitch and became more frantic as he spoke.

_But now you're here._

" _Non_. I will not." Artie's own gaze was hardened steel, even as he felt his limbs tremble and shake. Even as his hair stood on end, and every last inch of skin became riddled with goosebumps. Everything about this situation, this conversation, screamed wrong. Still, he held on. "I will not, because I am your _ami_ , Yandere. Your friend. _Desole_... I am zorree, for not being here zooner."

_"Iie..."_ Yandere whispered, eyes wide and broken. He reached up to dig the fingers of his free hand deep into his hair, his gaze dropping to the floor. _"Iie..."_ His breathing had hitched up into short, rapid bursts. He didn't understand. _He didn't understand._ The ringing wouldn't stop. The static wouldn't stop. The _voices wouldn't stop._ "How... _itai_...!" A sob caught in his throat. _"Itai, biju-chan...!"_

_And..._

Artie finally took a step, but it still wasn't backwards. He moved forward, closing the small gap between them further and opening his arms. Normally, Yandere would be the one to sweep him into a surprise hug or to flop against him, moaning about homework and how _senpai_ refused to notice him. Now, it was his turn to reach out. He would do it, for Yandere. If it meant getting him out of... whatever this was, he would do it. Artie worked up a nervous smile. "It's okay, _fleur rouge_. It's okay. I'm here now. I'm here. And..."

**_And..._ **

_**"ARTI-"** _

Artie's head turned away from the sobbing Yandere in front of him as the normally soft and soothing voice of the Host cut through the ringing like a knife. It was loud, frantic and edged with worry. The start of his name was accompanied by hurried footsteps, but abruptly Artie's attention was drawn back to the ego in the room with him.

" _B.. baka... baka biju-chan...._ I t-told you... to run... I told you...."

A numbing sort of tingle washed down over Artie's body. He didn't want to, but eventually, he caved and let his gaze drop down between them. He wasn't sure when he'd stopped breathing. "...."

_Red._

_There was so much **red**._

Artie could only see the handle of Yandere's blade, where his knuckles remained bone white from his grip. The rest of the weapon was buried deep into his stomach.

He was numb. Why was he numb? Shouldn't he be in excruciating pain? Was it shock?

"Yandere!" Host's voice called from the doorway.

_"Gomen..."_ Yandere whispered, a sob tearing a this throat.

_**I'll make you feel right at home.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	6. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the best laid plans...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys. This one was a real doozy to write, even though it’s a scene that’s been in my head almost since the beginning! It gets pretty intense here. Better buckle up.

_"You've gone too far this time, Dark." Dr. Iplier's voice was tired and worn._

_"The Host tried to warn Dark. His actions were too dangerous. Someone was going to get hurt. Someone could have been killed." The Host's, in contrast, was soft and high strung._

_"Someone almost **was** killed. Artiplier is a weaker ego. He doesn't have a large fanbase, but he was new enough to hang on. It was close. Too close. If you had gotten him here any later..."_

_"So little Yandere finally snapped. You can't blame that on me. It's been coming for a very long time now." Dark's voice, smooth as silk and deadlier than nightshade._

_"It wasn't him snapping and you know it." Host, furious and stretched thin, dropped third person as his emotion swelled._

_"Accuse much as you like. You can't-"_

_"Prove anything?" Wilford's drawl cut into the conversation._

_Dark's disdain dripped from his tone. "Come here to attempt another lecture, Will? You should save it for Yandere. He's the one who stabbed another ego, after all. Very nearly killed him too, the poor thing."_

_"I would, if Yandere understood his actions. He can't be held accountable if he's been manipulated by someone else who **does**."_

_"My point stands. You all can blame me of crimes until you're blue in the face, but if you have nothing to back it up..."_

_"Ah! But you see, Darky-poo, I am not simply "The Great and Fantabulous Wilford Warfstache!" I am also, "Ace Reporter and Television Show Host Wilford Warfstache!" A much bigger mouthful, really-"_

_"And a much bigger thorn in my side...." Dark grumbled._

_"-but it means I have the skills to hunt down that which you're so pea-cocky confident about us lacking! That is, the evidence!"_

_"Did you honestly just make a television appear solely for this argument?"_

_"Shut up and watch the tape, you black and white baboon! You see?"_

_"Footage of Yandere and I in the same space...? Yes. Hardly evidence that I-"_

_"Can it! Look. This is a compilation from all week. If you check the time stamps, rarely is there a moment where you **aren't** stalking our little schoolboy. You're with him **constantly**. You were never like that before."_

_"And if I argue coincidence...?"_

_"The only time Yandere snaps is when you're present. And when he's alone, you can see he's calmer. It's obvious. The moment you enter the shot, he goes all erratic again! I am the unquestionable master of happy coincidences, Dark! And... unhappy, but nevermind that. The point here is: you've been caught grey-handed, and it's time you owned up to your actions."_

_Dark's chuckle was, well, dark; and spine-chilling. "I don't see why..."_

_"Dark. If you continue, someone else is going to get hurt. And they might not survive it. You have to stop. Yandere is too unstable for this." Dr. Iplier tried again._

_"Or worse, Dark is going to dig too deep and lose control. If his aura gets out of hand... if it falls into Yandere's hands...." The Host dipped into anxiously murmuring to himself._

_"Dark-a-dark, if you don't go make this right, I swear I'll paint your entire office the brightest pink I can find! And I'll confiscate your piano." Wilford warned, though his teasing tone was difficult to take seriously._

_"You wouldn't..."_

_"Also, we will alert the other egos to your machinations. I am certain they will be... displeased about it. Even if they are not close to Yandere. The threat stands, and they will know where it comes from." Blue's voice was clipped and controlled; he must have come with Wilford. That explained why he didn't sound very happy._

_The sneer, mockery and indignant loathing soaked every word that fell from Dark's tongue. "You all shall regret this. I will go speak with Yandere, but do not be surprised if the conversation concludes in a manner you were not anticipating. I always get my way."_

_"No he doesn't." Wilford piped up, but Dark was gone._

_Yandere knew he was gone, because he felt the aura pull away from the room. He knew what to call it now. He knew what it was. He knew what- **who** \- was causing it, all this time._

_Yandere finally had a source for his negative emotions; his torment. He had a face and a name to focus that anguish on. He understood what Dark had been trying to do. To think, he'd only been hovering by the door to eavesdrop because he'd been working up the nerve to see how Artie was doing. His companion would just have to wait._

_Yandere had someone else he needed to take care of first._

* * *

The hallway was deserted when he found Dark. Or maybe Dark found him. It didn't really matter, one way or the other. What did was the fact they were together again. Having no one around was simply a bonus. Yandere didn't care much if any of the other egos were to be injured in some way, but it would certainly be a hindrance.

Besides, he needed to focus all of his attention on Dark. No distractions. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing or what exactly Dark was capable of, and those were setbacks enough.

No, he needed to be smart about this. He had to not only play Dark's game, but become the game master. He had to beat the ego with his own tricks. He had to grab what was freely given to him by the horns, and take control. Only then could he be free of Dark's influence. Only then could he get his revenge.

Revenge for his pain. His despair. His slippage of sanity.

Revenge for Artie.

It was all Dark's fault. Wilford and the others were right. Even snapped, Yandere was sure he never would have stabbed Artie unprovoked. No, this was all that "aura's" doing. Whatever it was, he knew what it felt like, and he was going to use that knowledge. He was going to capitalize on the fact Dark was, appropriately, in the dark. To the older ego, Yandere was still upset, mad, oblivious and naive.

It was an assumption Yandere would make Dark regret.

Dark pooled into the hallway just like the shadows trailing from his suit. He slowly appeared more than anything, flickering into view like a ghost. His hands were clasped primly behind his back; expression utterly neutral. Still, the way he stared Yandere down spoke volumes.

Yandere, tense and twitching and grinning oh-so-wide, made no move to shorten the distance between them. It was only a few yards, but it felt like mere inches when their eyes connected. Deep, endless pits of black ripped from the void Dark presided over itself and violent, bloody red quivering in their pools of strained white sclera. Between stress, exhaustion and impending madness there was almost more red than white in Yandere's eyes; streaked and spotted with tiny veins.

They were the picture of "contrast." Color and greyscale, movement and stillness, composure and agitation. Hot, and cold. It was incredible, how two merciless killers, schemers and manipulators could be so strikingly different.

Dark was the first to speak. Clearly, his patience had been worn thin by the other egos. He didn't want to be here if it wasn't to further his goals. Yet, the others had twisted his arm. Perhaps he felt he still had a shot at accomplishing his goals if he played his cards right.

Yandere hoped he was holding his breath on that one.

"Yandere." His only response was to twitch violently, so Dark continued. "I heard about what happened. It seems you had a little accident in the board room with your good... friend. How unfortunate. You must be feeling absolutely _terrible_."

Yandere shrugged. Of course he was. The last thing he'd ever wanted to do was hurt Artie. It was the whole reason he'd been avoiding the ego in the first place. Still, he hardly had to confirm Dark's assumptions. Let the self-proclaimed "mastermind" think what he wanted. The more "gone" he believed Yandere to be, the better. He'd get more careless. "I told him to run. I told him to leave. _Baka_ never listens. Not my fault, _ne_?"

"Oh, of course not. According to the general consensus, you stabbing an innocent ego is all my doing." Dark didn't sound put out or insulted. He imbued the words with faux surprise and what must have been his attempt at "hurt." Too bad no one in the building would have bought it. "Apparently, it was I who held the knife, and I who shoved it so deeply into Artiplier's guts Dr. Iplier actually had to perform a life-saving surgery. Not the ego whose hand and blade and skirt are all still spotted with his blood."

Dark's lip was curling. He probably found Yandere's current appearance repulsive. How ironic, seeing as it was his fault Yandere had stopped taking care of himself in the first place. Too busy moving, too busy hiding, too busy trying to hunt down the source of his pain and paranoia.

Well, the hunt was over. The only question that remained: who here was the prey?

"Awww, how sad. Is _yami_ upset? Is he wondering why all the others suddenly care? Oh, _kawaii_." Yandere giggled, twisting his head around and around. He flexed the fingers wrapped around the bloodied handle of his knife. His grin had never wavered, not even for a second; no matter how terribly it twitched upon his face. "Well, if you're angry, here I am~ I'd be so _happy_ to wet my blade again... it hungers...."

The voices singing through his head had nothing to do with his knife. Yandere's weapons never had a voice. They were merely tools to carry out his wants. The lilting whispers cooing death and bloodshed in his mind belonged to the same influence Dark had been using to slowly drive him insane.

He was doing it now. Yandere couldn't see the shadows, but he felt it. Now that he knew the cause he could pinpoint how the culprit seeped into his skin and beneath his blood-coated fingernails. How icy fear and fidgeting paranoia gripped at his heart like a vice, squeezing and making breathing difficult. A cold sweat broke out on his skin and his eyelids twitched spasmodically. Either Dark was trying to make him snap again, or he was going for something else. Instead of leaving the emotions to fester, Yandere gathered them up and aimed all of his growing hatred and rage at the one creating them.

Dark was smirking now. He'd always viewed Yandere as a child. "I'm not interested in further bloodshed or getting into a fight. If you're looking for that, I would suggest hunting down Wilford." He tugged at the cuffs of his suit, straightening out the fabric. "No, all I want... is your cooperation."

" _Nani_...?" Yandere's head slowly rolled to his opposite shoulder. He made his eyes wide in a different way; less mad, more curious. All the while, he internally grappled with the darkness curling about his mind and his spine. "Did you need me to stab somebody?"

Dark rolled his eyes. However, the subtlest furrow was entering his brow. Was he beginning to catch on? Or was he just irritated? "No, I can accomplish murder on my own. What I want is something more. Something unique, that only you seem capable of giving to me-"

"My anime collection?" Yandere didn't bother stifling his grin. It blossomed large and unhinged on his face, stretching until his cheeks hurt. He ignored the twinge. It was nothing compared to the slow agony he'd been facing this past week. Nothing compared to the constant voices in his head and the endless anxiety. He gripped at the darkness and gave it a tug. It felt foreign to him, just off from being the right fit, but it was close enough for him to interact with. For him to manipulate.

For him to absorb.

Dark's lip curled again, but his no doubt snappy response shifted abruptly into a singular flash of confusion. Yandere took great joy in it, even if it was only a second. "What are you doing?"

"Hmm? _Me_? Nothing~ I'm just standing here, talking to you. _Baka_. I thought _benshi_ was the one without eyes. Maybe I should take yours? Then the blindness would be fitting-"

"Enough. Silence. I will not be mocked by you, of everyone in this building. This is _my_ building, _my_ world, and you are under _my_ control. In or out of it. Now drop the knife." There was the barest hint of a snarl in Dark's tone.

It sent shivers racing down Yandere's spine, but his grin merely became more deranged with his excitement. Was that fear he smelled? He could feel the edge of Dark's command too; sharp and deafening and _stifling_. With Dark's aura pressing down upon him, it was almost difficult to breathe. Except this time, Yandere knew exactly what was trying to suppress him. He already had a hold on it himself. Yet instead of pushing back, he pulled harder, dragging more slack out of Dark's "rope." Like sucking bubble tea through a straw.

He'd have to reward himself with some after this. " _Sugoi_.... Fear looks really funny on you, _yami_. Like you're constipated. Ha! HAhaHAhaHA!" Yandere giddily let loose a peal of laughter which echoed about the otherwise empty hallway. There was static buzzing in his brain, Dark's voice ringing in his ears and his veins felt aflame as he wrangled with the beast. It was exhilarating.

" _Silence_. You have no idea what forces you're provoking. Unless you wish to be torn limb from limb by a power you cannot possibly _conceive_ , I suggest stopping this little game you're playing now. It would be such a waste..." Dark was fighting back. He didn't move an inch from his spot, but just like Yandere, he had his fingers sunk deep into the raging shadows.

Yandere simply continued to laugh. Was this how it felt to ride an angry bull? To be tossed about in a tornado? To be dragged off by the waves of the terrifyingly deep ocean? There was so much _noise_. So much power. Everything around him was a blur.

The voices screamed in his ears. They commanded him to listen.

 _Give us what we ask,_ they hissed, _and we shall grant you power beyond your wildest dreams._

Perhaps they made Dark such a promise, all those years ago. With a rush like this, Yandere could understand his high and mighty attitude. His skin vibrated with the untapped energy, making every last hair stand on end. He watched, fascinated, drawing in more and more of the aura Dark relied upon. It was so _easy_. It came to him like a gust of wind and he embraced it as an old friend.

He could get drunk on something like this. "You sound _scared, yami_. So scared.... What's wrong? Are things not going according to your plan?"

Dark's jaw was set now, though he was mostly a blurry silhouette in the narrowed channel of Yandere's vision. The darkness swirled around him, engulfing his senses as it became entangled with his mind. "Stop this. Yandere. Stop it _now_. You cannot comprehend-"

"I don't need to!" Yandere abruptly shrieked. His hands clenched as he brought them up near his shoulders, letting loose a powerful wail. It wasn't like the others. This time, it wasn't only his own ability fueling it. The aura he'd been sapping viciously from Dark tore through the sound and amplified it. "I DON'T NEED TO!"

A nearby window shattered. Dark didn't flinch, but he shied away from the shards of glass. Before they could hit the floor, they were caught up by the aura growing thick and heavy in the hallway. Small winds were whipping up, sending Yandere's clothes flapping wildly against his limbs. Streaks of red tore across his manic face like writhing tentacles in a sea of black. There was a shadow there, now. Something _old_ and _dark_ and _powerful_ that hadn't been there before.

Yandere knew when Dark recognized it, because his tense grip on the aura faltered. He used the opportunity to drag in another helping and screamed, this time from the surge of energy rather than his emotions. So much. There was so much _power_ here. How long had Dark been hoarding it all for himself?

" _Yami_...." Yandere sang, head ducking low and arms twisting out to either side of his body. His neck cracked. " _ **Yami**_...." He twitched like a bobblehead, slowly beginning to rise up off the floor. He scarcely noticed the removal of gravity or carpet from the soles of his penny loafers. All he could feel, think and breathe was this newfound power. This **darkness**. It was consuming him, he knew it, but the horror he could sense rolling off of Dark's weakening body in waves made it worth it. He let it wash over him like a warm summer breeze.

Dark had been so confident no one else could harness the darkness that he failed to make one crucial connection, his arrogance proving his downfall. If Yandere could absorb his energy, then all it would take was self-realization to transform Dark's funneling into a siphon.

It was similar to those initial experiments, where Dark had flooded Yandere with his influence. It was too much, and Yandere snapped.

This time, he was not only prepared for the rush, but he'd triggered it. Rather than taking what little Dark was willing to slip him, Yandere was sucking the ego dry. More power flooded through his limbs than he ever thought imagineable. It was a searing fire roaring through his body, conflicting with the icy cold and numbness of the shadows wrapping around him. He glowed an eerie black under their influence, unhindered by the laws of their reality.

Yandere's abilities were a strange thing. Rather than warping reality at his leisure like some of the more powerful egos, a more appropriate description would be that he... bent it, somewhat. Yandere, a figment of his game and weeb culture and all that defined it, was allowed to live by said definers' vicarious rules. Anime. Manga. If something were possible in these media, he could make it so.

It was easier to do with small things. Like having endless storage in his clothes or being sporadically surrounded by floating cherry blossoms. Bigger things like what he was doing now, those would take their toll on him over time. He'd already be feeling exhausted.

Instead, he'd never felt more alive. He'd never been more awake. Energy, raw and merciless, coursed through him like a forest fire. It was consuming everything and in turn giving him full rein of his abilities. Levitation, the ethereal glow, all the color draining away from his eyes; how the wind in the hallway only grew stronger, glass cracked and day turned to night. The shadows allowed him all of these things.

And Dark was left cowering in his corner, clinging to what scraps of aura he had left. He'd never looked so powerless.

Yandere laughed, then, high and deranged and beyond his control. He laughed until his jaw ached, until his teeth hurt, until there were tears trickling from the corners of his eyes. They were hot- _too hot_ , scalding his skin with their runoff of excess energy. Yandere had Dark's power, but he didn't know how to _control_ it. He could utilize it, but it was rapidly tearing him apart. He shrieked.

"Yandere! Stop this now! It's going to eat you alive; you're going to bring the entire building down on our heads!" Dark's roar may as well have been a whisper over the wind crashing through the hallway. His normally pristine appearance was an absolute wreck, but still he managed to hold his ground. He was using what little aura he had as a shield. "You have to release it!"

"Maybe I don't want to release it!" Yandere's voice thundered with enough force to shake the hallway. More tears cascaded down his face, searing his skin as blood began to bubble forth from his ears and nose. "Maybe I want it to consume me! _Baka_! You idiot! Stupid... stuper... stupid person! Shadow bitch! I hate you! I hate you! All this time you've been driving me insane and I thought it was my fault, _my fault_ , but it wasn't, it never was, it was all you and your dirty tricks!"

"Yandere-"

"Well, they're _my_ tricks now. MINE. And even if they destroy me, at least I'll know I beat you. _You'll_ forever know I was stronger than you, and that I won your stupid game, and EVERYONE WILL NOTICE ME! _SENPAI_ WILL NOTICE ME AND I'LL BE LOVED AND YOU CAN'T HURT ME ANYMORE!" Yandere was screaming at the top of his lungs. Plaster crumbled, ceiling tiles fell and wires split to send sparks showering down.

"Yandere, stop!"

But Yandere was still screaming. The power was still burning; eating him alive, just as Dark claimed it would. His blood boiled, his skin split, veins burst and his muscles convulsed, causing a number of his organs to spasm. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't hear or think over the pounding in his ears, the static engulfing his brain. Everything before him was darkness. Blood dripped from his eyes and his mouth, joining the mess from his nose and ears alongside all of his pained tears.

So this was what dying felt like.

Yandere screamed, and he kept screaming as the darkness tore his body and mind asunder. The moment his grasp slipped, it was over, and the beings granting him everything happily had their fill. It truly was like being inside of a tornado.

He only wished he could have told Artie he was sorry.

Several chilling cracks, snaps and the squish of rending flesh later, Yandere's body hit the carpeted floor. It was limp and lifeless as the shadows retreated, returning to their true host. The only one who could properly control and wield them. Yandere wasn't strong enough. His influence wasn't broad enough.

Dark, disheveled and disoriented, stumbled over to the body with far less grace than he would have liked. As he stared down at it, face for once flipping through multiple expressions, he found himself wondering.

Which of them had paid this price?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...can fail.


	7. Hypothesis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Iplier has a suggestion, and Dark has a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. This took a while, and I’m sorry lol. Life and work have been bitches and I’ve been de-stressing a lot with some equally ego trash friends of mine. But I finally got time to write, so here it is.
> 
> It’s also shorter than I anticipated because I decided to split up the next chapter into two parts. Sorry guys. Not really.
> 
> But so yeah. [alcordraws](http://alcordraws.tumblr.com), [galaxy-starheart](http://galaxy-starheart.tumblr.com) and [kenmarlenn](http://kenmarlenn.tumblr.com) here’s the sads I promised and maybe it’s not as breaking as I’ve been advertising but I hope it still makes you cry.
> 
> #friendship

Dark stared down at the prone form of Yandere where he lay in one of Dr. Iplier's few clinic beds. The ego was scarcely recognizable, covered from head to toe in a myriad of casts and bandages. Tubes and wires snaked out around the gaps, attached to various machines gathered at the head of the bed. One produced a steady beep. Dark knew it was Yandere's pulse; the beat of his heart buried away beneath all the rest.

He looked so small. Yandere was hardly large in size or stature to begin with, but like this he almost looked a child. An actual teenager, caught in the throes of a tragedy. Only a few tufts of red and black poked out from the bandages wrapped around his head. There was deep bruising around his eyes, and an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose blurred more.

Slowly and quietly, Dr. Iplier stepped up beside Dark. Having been the ego to bring Yandere in, he'd been by Yandere's side the longest. A few had stopped by after hearing the news: Host, Orville, Wilford. The doctor knew Artie would have been there as well, were he not out of it himself. (He wouldn't have allowed Artie to move from his bed yet anyway. His stitches had barely begun to heal.) They had all left eventually, as there was little any of them could do.

_"It's catatonia, not comatose. His... everything, it's in shock. Post-traumatic stress disorder, to put it simply. It's... it's so severe he isn't even responding to extreme external stimuli. Only his eyes have moved since you brought him in, and... I felt it might be easier to just close them."_

That had been Dr. Iplier's diagnosis, once he'd done all he could for Yandere's physical injuries. He was hardly a psychiatrist, but he knew enough to recognize the details of Yandere's condition. Part of him wished it was a coma, even if it meant there was less chance of Yandere waking up. At least he would be unconscious. At least he could be at rest, instead of trapped within this frozen state of muteness and loss of motor functions.

It was part of the reason for his quiet, besides the somber atmosphere. He turned to Dark and his tone, while hardened with accusation, was subdued. "...If he'd been human, he would have died before hitting the floor, from what you explained to me. If he were a weaker ego, he would have died before you could bring him to me. He should have... even with his materials and fan base, he shouldn't have survived the surgeries."

Dr. Iplier's grip tightened on the edges of his clipboard and he chewed at his lip. "I spent twelve hours alone realigning his bones. Another six painstakingly removing their fragments from his organs. _Another_ six patching up the lacerations and tears, I... I don't believe in miracles, Dark." His brown eyes glanced to the older ego's face, but it hadn't so much as twitched. Those dark eyes were still locked onto Yandere, greyed hands clasped stiffly behind his back. Dr. Iplier sighed. "Some combination of his support and his abilities pulled him through it, but Dark... I can't do anything for his mind."

Finally, _finally_ Dark turned to evenly meet his gaze. It was chilling and demeaning but beneath that noxious surface lay other suppressed emotions. He didn't say anything, though, so Dr. Iplier continued. "Your shadows broke more than his body. I think there's more to it than a disorder caused by the conflict. I think they left something behind."

Dark quirked one solitary brow, silently offering Dr. Iplier the chance to explain further.

Well, at least he was _listening_. That alone was more than the doctor had allowed himself to hope for. He sighed again, scribbling something down on the paper attached to his clipboard. It was just a doodle, but it helped him feel productive; helped steady his nerves. "Your shadows caused this, Dark. Your aura, whatever you want to call it. They did this... and I believe they're the only thing that can fix it. It's the only treatment I can think of."

When Dark spoke, it was akin to a subtle shock in the room. The already chilly clinic lowered a few degrees in temperature. "He's an ego. Not a human. Surely, he can work through this."

Dr. Iplier immediately shook his head. "I don't think so. We've never dealt with something like this before, but... Dark. Look at Host. Look at what your abilities have caused him. That was in a controlled state. This... this was catastrophic. There's no other word for it. You know this is something only you can address." He looked to Dark again, working up the nerve, his gaze sad and pleading. He might not be especially close to Yandere, but he never wanted to lose an ego.

Dark was tense. Dr. Iplier could see the frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. "...if I refuse?"

Dr. Iplier's brow furrowed and unlike the other ego, he allowed his frown to show. "Then... my prognosis is bleak. I don't think.... It's not a matter of him _dying_ , Dark. If Yandere stays like this... if he can't be who he is... the fans will lose interest. They'll forget. _He'll fade_ , Dark. He'll fade if he can't be everything Mark created him to be."

Dark turned away from Dr. Iplier, then, but the doctor could still see the tension in his face. He could see the internal debate swirling around in those dark eyes and knew in that moment the responsibility had been taken from his hands. He'd done all he could for Yandere. The rest was up to Dark now; the ego who had driven him to this state. "...I'll consider it. Leave us."

Dr. Iplier almost protested, concerned for exactly what Dark might be inclined to do, but in the end he knew giving Dark privacy would be for the best. Dark wouldn't do anything so long as he lingred, so long as there were witnesses. No, this was a matter he and Yandere needed to sort out themselves.

How Dark planned to do it, Dr. Iplier had no idea. But for Yandere's sake, he hoped it would be something successful.

Once left alone, Dark released a heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped and he allowed his rigid posture to fall as the full weight of the situation settled within him. He forced his fingers to unclench, hands releasing each other to swing listlessly to his sides. Still, the emotion didn't show on his face, only lingering in the depths of his eyes. Even alone, he had standards to uphold.

"Only I can fix this, hm?" He murmured to himself, stepping forward until he could grasp at the short bed rail. He leaned forward on it, looming over Yandere until the shadow he cast engulfed a majority of the younger ego. He didn't so much as twitch in response.

Dark's eyes narrowed. "Only I.... Why should I be required to fix anything? I warned the brat. I told him not to play with forces he couldn't even dream of. He didn't listen, and now he faces the consequences. It's a lesson." The words were a rumbling growl under his breath; a deep rumble in his chest. This was why he wished to be alone. He needed privacy to sort out his thoughts.

To make a decision.

He scoffed lightly and leaned back. "They all still blame me. For all of this. Everything. You were the one who stabbed the artist. You were the one who nearly destroyed the building. You were the one who signed his own death sentence- it was practically a suicide! Yet I am to blame for this. For everything. And now they want me to _fix it_. To fix _you_." He scoffed, again, harsher and more demeaning.

Dark forced his gaze away from Yandere, though he couldn't bring it to focus on anything else. He merely glowered into the liminal space. "I am required to do _nothing_. I have no guilt or remorse for my actions. I knew this outcome was a possibility. I knew the risks. Perhaps you should have considered them more."

He didn't know if Yandere could hear him. _Catatonia_ , Dr. Iplier had emphasized, _not comatose._ Sometimes, that meant the victim was still conscious, or aware. Others, they might as well have been comatose. Even if Yandere couldn't hear or comprehend Dark's words, he felt compelled to address the bedridden ego. This was all his doing. All of the accidents. If Dark had his way, none of this would have happened. No one would have been significantly hurt.

Yandere would have broken, most definitely, but only to the point of becoming Dark's puppet. Not like this. Not so broken he couldn't even blink or breathe on his own, with his tattered and bruised lungs. Dark's grip tightened on the plastic beneath his hands until the grey of his knuckles turned bone white.

He hissed under his breath. "It failed because of _you_. It failed because you couldn't simply play along. You had to get ideas. You had to fight back. If you'd simply _let me in_...."

Yet, that was precisely a reason the aura was so attracted to Yandere. His stubbornness and strength of will; two qualities Dark had himself. _Necessary_ traits if one were to even attempt to wield the darkness. Yandere had them, and he'd used them, and they were key factors as to how he was capable of undermining Dark in the first place. His aura had been all too eager for fresh meat and a more susceptible mind. It was precisely the outcome he'd tried so hard to avoid.

"If only you'd let _me_ in... instead of _it_...."

Dark finally looked back to Yandere, expression grim and pensive. He allowed some of his tiredness to show; a weariness creasing at his brow and forming lines on his face. Ripping one of his hands from the railing, he hesitantly reached out. Grey fingers found the most prominent tuft of red at the front of Yandere's head and brushed it back with a gentleness that was not contrived. Again, Yandere didn't stir, not even the monitor shifting its rhythm.

He might as well already be dead.

But he wasn't. Yandere wasn't, and even if he did die, he would come back. But it was impossible to know if his resurrection would break the stupor. If his fans would even have faith enough to revive him. If Dark allowed the contaminent, the issue, the "infection" to linger, would it only worsen? Would it become truly impossible to address?

Dark did not want Yandere to fade. Like Dr. Iplier, it didn't matter what his relationship to any given ego happened to be. He would do everything in his power to make certain none of them faded or disappeared. It had always been his primary goal, since the beginning.

Yandere couldn't fade. Dark would not allow it. Much as he refused to accept blame, refused to acknowledge his mistakes or his guilt, refused to admit he cared. He would not allow Yandere to disappear, be it of his own devices or Dark's machinations. He was in control here. He was the king of the castle and all who lived in it.

Dark closed his eyes and leaned back, hand returning to the railing. He drew in a deep, steadying breath and focused all of his attentions upon his aura. His shadows. His **darkness**. He attuned every last sense to the writhing mass of power and malice.

It sang to him. Spoke to him. It caressed his skin and brushed at his hair like an old friend. Like a faithful companion, but Dark knew better. He knew how those gentle touches could turn to teeth and claws; the murmurs a biting demand gnawing at the unwary mind. He'd had _years_ to learn about the aura and comprehend its every quirk. It took experience to control; to master.

Yandere never stood a chance.

Once certain of his grasp on the aura, Dark, pressed it forward. Like so many times in the past week, he let his energy seep into the ego before him. Yet this time, it wasn't alone. This time, Dark wasn't merely standing back to watch and to wait. This time, Dark was going with it.

He would find Yandere, and he would bring him back. Or else.


	8. Yin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's not quite right...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOO BOY.
> 
> This one is... it’s kind of intense, guys. It’s emotional. Seriously, if you can’t handle some deep... emotional stuff, and abandonment and such, just... maybe not read this one. (Which would be unfortunate as it’s kind of important, but still.)
> 
> This was exhausting to write but I’m super proud of the finished product. So I hope you enjoy, even if it’s just... a lot of angst. I’m sorry. Legitimately, for once. It’s pretty rough.
> 
> Have fun trying to figure out what all of Yandere's nicknames mean. B) I challenge you.

Yandere didn't know where he was.

There was darkness, all around; stifling and smothering and _silent_. He couldn't remember much. All he could recall was pure agony coursing through every inch of his body, the ringing sound of his own crazed laughter and the wind howling in his ears.

And Dark. He remembered Dark. But where was he now?

Where was Yandere, for that matter?

Had he lost? Had Dark tossed him into his void as punishment? What if he kept him there forever, for stealing his aura away?

Yandere sucked in a tight, anxious breath. He felt the fingers of one hand sliding into his hair and quickly tore them away. No, no panicking would only make the situation worse. He needed to stay focused. He needed to keep his head. He could figure this out. First, he just had to remember. Remember...

He tried to concentrate; tried to dredge up the painful memories. All the while he wandered the darkness. Yandere couldn't see a "floor," but there was definitely something solid enough to walk on beneath his feet. There was a chill in the air, though it felt out of place from how thick the atmosphere felt in his throat and lungs. Like humidity without the heat. Was that even possible?

Yandere was dragged from his poor attempts to concentrate and rambling thoughts as he spied a familiar silhouette in the near distance. He tensed, red eyes widening with disbelief and breath catching harshly in his throat. " _Denka_?"

The figure didn't seem to hear him- or at least, he didn't respond. Yandere wasn't certain how long he'd been searching the darkness for something, _anything_ , and he was not about to waste this opportunity. Without further hesitation he kicked his legs into gear and ran at the man standing only a few yards away. " _Denka_!" His voice rang out in the darkness, echoing harshly around them and bouncing back into his own ears. " _Denka_!"

Finally, the man heard him and turned around, cheeks stuffed full of peanut butter. More dripped from his chin, and the squirrels scattered about him halted what they were doing to view the sudden commotion. Instantly, King of Squirrels' soft, brown eyes widened in horror. His subjects' fur stood on end and they chuffed at Yandere angrily. In a blink, the older ego was turning on his heel and fleeing from him. He left a diminishing trail of peanut butter in his wake, and his squirrels loyally followed in his footsteps.

" _Denka_! _Denka_ wait! Wait! I just... I'm not... _chikusho_!" Yandere hissed out a curse as King surprisingly evaded him. He knew the other was fast, but even this was pushing it. He'd been so close when King decided to run away. Lips twitching with a mixture of fury and frustration, he decided to follow the trail while it lasted. At least it was better than the neverending darkness.

It didn't take Yandere long to come across more egos. This time, it was Silver Shepherd and Ed Edgar, huddled close together and heatedly discussing something- or, well, arguing. It was always difficult to tell. Yandere beamed. " _Ginrenger_! _Otosan_! Oiiiii!"

Both egos paused in their bickering to look up. However, they immediately frowned and tensed at the sight of Yandere and started backing away. Ed's hand was drifting towards the gun on his back, and Silver looked ready to put up his dukes. (He also looked ready to soil his suit.) Neither were welcoming or friendly and it prompted Yandere to slow.

He furrowed his brows, frowned and tilted his head. " _Nani_...? _Ginrenger_? _Otosan_? What's wrong? Are you scared of me?" Yandere had always known they were, but usually they were more inclined to hide it. Their current actions were practically... hostile.

They didn't say anything. Just stared almost accusingly at Yandere and prepared for the risk of an ensuing fight. It was unsettling and discomfiting.

Gradually, Yandere pouted. It deepened when he took a step forward and their body language turned even more aggressive. " _Ginrenger_?" Silver sucked in a breath and raised his fists up a little higher, as if the action were intimidating. " _Otosan_?" Ed, already tense, somehow managed to become more rigid while his fingertips twitched over the barrel of his gun. Yandere's pout screwed up into an irritated scowl. "Well fine then! Don't talk to me! _Bakas_! _Kutabare_!" he snapped, stalking off away from the pair.

Surely, surely there was _someone_ around here who would be willing to help him. Yandere meandered through the darkness, occasionally calling out "hello" and " _konnichiwa_ " to the emptiness. It took a long time, but eventually he located two more egos. " _Bancho_! _Ongakuka-chan_!"

Like before, the egos looked up at the call. Like before, their expressions immediately shifted upon sighting Yandere coming towards them. The easygoing smiles dripped off of Bingiplier and Mark Bop's faces; the latter even paling. Bing stepped in front of his companion with furrowed brows and a flicker of defensive hostility. Behind him, Bop trembled and watched Yandere as if he were a vicious, rabid predator just waiting to rip the flesh from his bones.

Normally, Yandere would be flattered, but right now he needed someone who _didn't_ fear him. Bing was scared too, he could tell. His protectiveness for Bop was simply stronger than his fear. Yandere had no doubts the android would attack if Yandere drew too close, so he stopped. " _Listen_. I just wanna talk! Why are you all being so angry all of a sudden?"

Neither of them answered, though Bop rattled off something in that gibberish language of his. Yandere would have gotten a sense of deja vu were Bop not so obviously frightened. That and the fact Bing only stuck around long enough to make sure Yandere had stopped advancing on them. Scrunching up his nose and curling his lip in what was probably meant to be an intimidating sneer, he quickly ushered a near to tears Bop away into the darkness. Bing only spared a furtive glance to make sure they weren't being followed, then blatantly proceeded to ignore Yandere's existence entirely.

Yandere felt a spike of rage and something else surge up from his gut and stomped his foot with a guttural shout. " _Warugaki_! Go ahead and run away then! _Okubyou mono_! I doubt you could have helped me anyway!" He released another shriek of frustration and stormed off.

Yandere continued encountering egos either alone or in various groups, but the end result was always the same. Silence, wary glares, defensive postures and occasionally hostility until one side eventually gave up and left the confrontation. It was _always_ the same.

" _Ikemen_ , _Arashi-san_ , _Kuebiko-san_..." Yandere had stopped shouting or eagerly calling out his names for the egos, but it didn't change their responses. Bim Trimmer and the Jims both spared Yandere one, single glance before quickly walking in the opposite direction. " _Ishasan_." Dr. Iplier glanced up once from the clipboard he was studying before turning away. Somehow, Yandere knew trying to get his attention again would be pointless.

He meandered, coming across the Googs next. Surely, they would at least acknowledge him! " _Ao-san_!" Nothing but a cold glare. It was more than enough for Yandere to scurry back away from Blue and turn to Oxnard instead. " _Midori-san_?" Nothing again. Honestly, Yandere wasn't even certain if the android was looking at him, or through him. He pouted. Oliver; surely, _surely_ Oliver would greet him. He managed an anxious smile. " _Ki-iro-kun_..." Yandere wasn't met with anger or disdain, but instead that ever becoming familiar flicker of fear. Oliver backed away, and when Yandere tried to follow Orville stepped into his path.

Even with burning, crimson eyes, his gaze felt cold as ice. Yandere's breath grew a bit short. _He_ wasn't supposed to get scared. " _A_... _Aka-chan_...." Those red eyes flashed, and Yandere was peeling off in a frightened run before Orville could even complete his intimidating step forward.

His eyes burned with the threat of tears. What was going on? As if this strange void space wasn't weird enough, everyone else was acting so cruel. Fear was one thing. Defensiveness was also something Yandere could maybe understand. But such outright hostility? The aggressiveness? The icy looks and glares and endless _silence_? It was slowly driving him mad. He had to find someone, _anyone_ , who would just say a single word to him.

Yandere was in such a panic he almost ran headfirst into yet another ego. He recognized the trenchcoat immediately and sucked in a breath. _Host_. Host, certainly Host, with all of his calm and patience and understanding, would give him a moment of his time. At the very least, he couldn't pin Yandere down with his eyes and make him feel like a disgusting insect. " _Benshi_ -"

_"The Host will have nothing to do with Yandere or his words or actions. It would be in everyone's best interest if Yandere were to leave immediately. Leave, and never return. He is no longer wanted among the fold, and is not welcome here. Please, leave the Host be. He should not even be narrating to Yandere."_ The Host did, indeed, grace Yandere with words. But they were nothing Yandere could ever expect or prepare for, and immediately part of him wished the Host had remained as silent as all the rest.

He clenched his jaw and his fist for a moment, glowering up at the back of Host's head with tears forming in his eyes. " _Iie_! I won't leave! I won't leave until someone tells me what I did so wrong! Why do you all _hate_ me?! What did I do?! _**Tell me!**_ " Yandere screamed, reaching out to grasp at Host's trenchcoat and force him around.

It was only then he realized the Host wasn't wearing his bandages. His empty, bloodied eye sockets stared down at Yandere, _through_ Yandere, and he swore it froze every last vein in his body. When Host spoke, it was with a reverberating echo that shook those frigid veins until Yandere feared they would all shatter and leave his body full of holes. _**"Yandere will leave. He will leave the Host alone, and he will disappear. Forever. He is no longer wanted here. Yandere turns around..."**_

Yandere whimpered as he felt the power grip his body, how it forced his feet to move. " _Benshi_ , _onegai_...."

_**"...and walks away. Far away. Until he can no longer see the Host. He does not return, nor does he look back. He says not a single word until the Host will be unable to hear it."**_ The words were a vicious rumble, low and cruel, and Yandere's feet were moving before the Host even completed his narration. He said no more after that, and Yandere didn't _need_ to look to know the ego had stopped paying attention to his retreating form.

He sniffled, and he walked, and he waited.

Eventually, he must have gotten far enough away, as he was given back control over his body. Yandere drew in a ragged breath and released it in a sigh of relief. Never in his existence had he been so terrified. Never before had he felt so utterly helpless. He'd managed to stop crying, but that didn't repair the damage on the inside. His lips wobbled, and he pressed onward.

When he spied a familiar head of bubblegum pink, he thought his nightmare was finally over. The Host had let him down, but Wilford was different. Yandere _knew_ Wilford. He knew, even if the reporter forgot to show he cared sometimes, or got too busy, he was _always_ willing to speak to Yandere. He wasn't even doing much, simply talking to himself, so approaching Wilford shouldn't be a problem at all. Yet...

Still, Yandere found himself walking on eggshells. After all that had happened, after all the reactions the other egos had given him... if Wilford decided to turn hostile as well, he could easily turn Yandere inside-out. Or switch his arms and legs around. Or pop his head off with a mere wiggle of his mustache.

Wilford hadn't stopped muttering to himself or turned to glance at Yandere, so he must not have noticed him yet. It gave Yandere time to collect his thoughts; work up the nerve to speak and get the older ego's attention.

He licked anxiously at his lips, fingers twitching at his side as he stood stock still and near terrified behind the person he'd always considered to be a mentor of sorts. He couldn't bring himself to look up, just in case Wilford decided to glare at him too. Instead, Yandere stared at Wilford's shoes and hunched his shoulders. " _Sensei_...." He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, hearing the nonstop rambling grow quiet. " _Onii-san_." The word was the softest of breaths from his lips, almost a desperate whisper.

Slowly, Wilford turned to look at Yandere. The younger ego still wasn't looking up out of fear, but he didn't _feel_ a glare focus on him. That had to be a good sign. For several long moments, there was silence, and Yandere feared Wilford might not speak to him either. He was prepared to turn and leave, defeated, when that drawl finally started up. "What is it? I'm busy."

Hope and relief bloomed simultaneously within Yandere's chest. Eyes widening slightly and regaining their light, he lifted his head to meet Wilford's gaze. The smile that had been forming on his lips quickly flickered out. The impatient, slightly agitated tone he'd been anticipating. The harsh, frigid gaze directed at him was new and breathtaking- _not_ in the good way. The positive emotions withered and squeezed tight around Yandere's lungs. He _wilted_ beneath that gaze; not angry or accusatory, but absolutely unkind. There was no hint of warmth or affection or even amusement in those brown depths.

Yandere shrunk, curling in towards himself. He tried not to panic and gathered up the words he'd so painstakingly chosen. " _G_... _gomen_ , _onii-san_ -"

"Don't call me that."

"I..."

"We're not brothers. Not by blood or by anything else, you silly boy. Just tell me what you want so you can go. I'm _trying_ to practice my bit here and you're _ruining_ my concentration."

Yandere hadn't thought it was possible for that drawl to come off as sinister or cruel, yet there it was. He felt his insides clench and had to swallow down a rising sob. This wasn't going how he'd hoped at all. Part of him wished Wilford would just attack him, or threaten him, instead of coldly indulging him like this. " _G_ \- _gomenasai_. I... I just..."

"You just _what_? Come on now, hurry up! I've got places to kill, people to be and sights to interview."

Yandere might have laughed, were he not so close to tears. He clenched his fist at his side and trembled. "I... I just... _onegai_ , _sensei_. Please. Please. Tell me what I did wrong." He sniffled, unable to hold it back. "T-tell me why everyone h-hates me...."

"Why wouldn't they hate you?"

Yandere froze, and his red eyes widened some again in shock. Had he just...? But Wilford wasn't done.

"You frighten everyone away. You're dangerous. You attack and provoke without care and you're so damn selfish, you wiley little brat. No one can stand having you around. The only reason you're here is because you're one of Mark's egos. Otherwise, you'd be out on the street."

Yandere's breath hitched. "You don't... y-you don't mean that..."

"I mean everything I say. And I mean it when I say this: you're not wanted here. _No one wants you here._ Go skidaddle away now, before I get impatient. You know what happens when I get _impatient_."

Yandere didn't need to see the flash of Wilford's gun to move. He didn't need to hear the click of its hammer being pulled into place to run away. The ego's words had done enough, and the sobs racked at his body as he ran. Tears fell rapidly but still couldn't leave his eyes fast enough to prevent blurring his vision, making him even more blind than before. Not that there was anything to see. None of the egos wanted him. None of them would spare him another glance.

He was alone. When he fell, tripping on his own feet, no one was there to ask if he was alright. No one was there to offer him a hand. He sat there on his knees, crying and wailing the emotions he'd been trying to bottle up inside. Despair, regret, confusion, anger; all of it came pouring out while he swiped at his messy face with a hand.

It felt as if he'd been crying for hours and hours when at last something in the distance caught his red, puffy eyes. Yandere sniffled, scrubbing once more at his sticky face with his sleeve in an effort to better make the shape out. He tensed a little upon realizing it was another person, but gradually the details came through. A striped shirt, slacks, a little red scarf and a cute beret atop a head of messy black hair. Yandere's aching heart skipped a few beats. He _knew_ that ego. He knew who it was. How could he have forgotten?

The one ego who always fought through his fear to be around him. The one ego who would indulge rambles about his crush and all of Yandere's insane plans. The one ego who would sit with him for hours, let Yandere lean on him for a nap, encourage Yandere with little works of art and support. The one with a tremble in his step, a far-off look in his red eyes and a shadow larger than himself.

" _Biju-chan_." Yandere whispered, scarcely able to believe it. Like a flower attempting to shake off the first frost, hope dared to peek out from the ruins of his chest. He took a breath and stumbled to his feet. " _Biju-chan_." His steps, slow and unsteady at first, became more rapid as he drew near the younger ego. Maybe, maybe now, maybe finally... " _Biju-chan_!"

Artiplier turned around, his eyes a bit wide with surprise. However, rather than narrow into a glare or close-off his expression, they softened to something pleasant and happy after landing on Yandere. A tiny smile flitted to his features. " _Fleur rouge_."

Yandere felt like crying again. At last, at last someone who didn't hate him. Who didn't see him as a nuisance. Who wasn't scared of him- at least, to the point they wanted nothing to do with him. His own face broke into a grin and he threw his arms out as his steps broke into a fullblown run. " _Biju-chan_!"

Artie opened up his arms, recognizing the signs Yandere was coming in for a grand tackle of a hug. He didn't back away or dodge to the side, and Yandere crashed into him with enough force to practically bowl him over. His arms fell around Yandere's heaving, shaking shoulders like they belonged there and he released a trembling breath of his own. "Eet ees alright, _fleur_. I am here now."

Yandere hiccuped. " _Biju-chan_...."

"I am always 'ere." Artie's voice sounded strained and watery.

It gave Yandere pause, and he blinked against his friend's shoulder. " _Biju-chan_?" He pulled back some, just enough to see Artie's face. When he realized blood was beginning to trickle from the corners of Artie's mouth, he gasped. " _Biju-chan_! You're hurt! What- what happened?!" The arm around Artie's shoulders tightened.

Artie wheezed, and the gurgle in it definitely indicated there was blood in his lungs. But how? He'd been just fine a minute ago! "Yandere..."

Something warm and wet dribbled onto Yandere's hand. He heard more than felt more droplets hit his shoe. His eyes widened again, and his breath became caught up in his throat. _No_. He didn't want to look down, but he _had_ to know. He had to confirm his horrifying suspicions with his own two eyes. It took every last ounce of willpower he had, but eventually his gaze fell.

Blood. Warm, wet and _red_ was spilling rapidly onto his hand, his wrist, down onto his socks and shoes. It was already soaking heavily through Artie's striped shirt. Yandere screamed. In his bloodied hand was the handle of a familiar knife, and the blade of that knife was lodged to the hilt in Artie's chest. When did he get a knife? When did he stab...? Yandere tried to think back, realizing he'd been completely oblivious to one of his hands the entire time. Oblivious to the object it held because the knife had practically become an extension of himself.

All those fearful looks. All that defensive posturing. Was it because of this? Because he'd been wielding a knife all along? Yandere tilted his head down further to spy not only fresh blood on his uniform, but dried spots of it as well. That meant... blood. He'd been running around spotted with _blood_ too. No wonder no one wanted anything to do with him. No wonder they all hated him.

_He was a murderer._

Yandere drew in a ragged breath at the same time as Artie, his head snapping back up to look the ego in the face. He could feel his eyes beginning to burn with the onset of fresh tears. Artie was pale, more blood spilling from his mouth and eyes slipping out of focus. Yandere had done this. He must have... it must have happened when they hugged. When he... oh god.

Oh god, he'd stabbed Artie in the chest. He'd at least punctured a lung, if not his heart. There was no coming back from that. Artie was dying. _Artie was dying._ The one ego to show him a shred of kindness, of acceptance, and he'd _killed him_.

Yandere screamed again, catching Artie as he fell, carefully lowering them both to the ground. He could murder people in a heartbeat, without batting an eyelash. But an ego? _Artie_? No. Never. He would never... and yet there Artie was, slowly fading away in his arms. Not in the way all egos feared, but instead caught up in the throes of a swift, painful death. Yandere choked on a dry sob. " _Iie_..." He pulled Artie a bit closer. " _Iie biju-chan_..."

He could tell Artie wanted to respond, but all that came up was a cough and more blood. He shuddered in Yandere's grasp, clinging weakly to Yandere's uniform as a weak smile formed on his red stained face. His eyes were dull, and he shook his head.

" _Biju-chan_ , _iie_. _Iie_... you can't... you c-can't die. You can't die because of me. _Biju-chan_!" Artie wasn't moving. He'd stopped responding, even minutely, and the grip on Yandere's shirt was slack. He screamed, he sobbed. " _BIJU-CHAN_! _BIJU-CHAN_! Artie! Artie _iie_ , _iie_ , you can't. You can't, Artie, y-you can't... you can't..." Tears began to drip from Yandere's eyes, falling to mix with the red. "...leave me."

Yandere slowly leaned forward, letting his forehead come to rest against Artie's. It was one of the few spots on his upper body not coated with blood, and Yandere cried against him like that for a long time. Until the skin against his arms cooled, and blood on his clothes congealed. For so long, there was nothing but the silence and his sobs and the stench of Artie's blood.

Then, out of the darkness, footsteps. Yandere's breath hitched, and at long last he forced himself away from the body laying half across his lap. His face was sticky again with the residue of his tears, and the drying blood made his clothes stiff to move around in.

From the shadows emerged one final figure. Grey skin, blackened eyes and a crisp, dark suit. His hair was meticulously swept to the left side of his face, and his hands were primly clasped behind his back. He walked, undisturbed by the blood or the body or Yandere's emotional state, until his shiny black shoes reached the very edge of the puddle that had formed. He stared down at in with a glimmer of distaste for a moment, before those soulless eyes shifted to Yandere.

Yandere tensed, metaphorical hackles rising and back arching like a cat. He pulled Artie's corpse closer to his chest protectively and bared his teeth at Dark with all the fury he had left. It wasn't much, and they both knew it. Dark probably would have looked amused, if he showed that much emotion.

"So sorry. Am I... interrupting something?" That smooth voice rolled down Yandere's spine like cold oil and he shivered. However, he couldn't quite find his voice after everything, and Dark took his silence as permission to continue. "So you've stabbed him. Again. I wonder, will the others be quite so eager to pin it on me? Or will they realize the true threat you are. The monster you have become. This grave you have dug for yourself is so.. deep.. Yandere." Dark's eyes, though hard as stone and emotionless, still managed to glitter in the darkness.

Yandere's fingers clenched into Artie's body. He snarled, "It was an accident! I didn't mean to kill him! I'm not a monster, I would never-"

"Never _what_ , Yandere? Stab one of your closest friends in cold blood? I suppose that's not your knife still lodged in his chest, then, is it?"

Yandere flinched, unable to stop himself from sparing the weapon a glance. He'd been so buried in his grief he'd forgotten to remove it. Not that it would have helped matters. Artie was doomed from the start. "I... I didn't mean..."

"You didn't mean to. Oh, but of course not, Yandere. Who ever _means_ to murder a friend? I'm certain this is all just a big misunderstanding..." Yandere looked up at Dark once more, eyes laden with heavy bags and puffy redness. Dark provided zero solace for those exhausted eyes. "Yet, Artiplier is still dead. You can see that much for yourself. There's no taking it back. No fixing this... _misunderstanding_. It truly is unfortunate..."

Yandere's breath hitched again; the risk of a fresh sob. He stared down at Artie's prone, dead form with quivering lips. "Why are you doing this? Why are you here? J-just leave me be... go away, _yami_. I can torture myself enough without your help...." The words were thick with emotion and the aftermath of his tears, but Dark wasn't leaving.

"Perhaps... I could give you another chance. The opportunity to do things right. What do you say, Yandere? Care to take me up on my offer?"

Furious indignation sparked to life in Yandere's chest, and his head snapped back up to focus a glare on Dark. Except- Dark was no longer present. A blink, and Yandere was no longer on his knees. Artie's body was gone, but all of the blood remained. Frantic and confused, Yandere looked wildly around, attempting to put the pieces together. Was he going insane? Was Dark making him lose his mind? He hadn't accepted the offer, he hadn't-

" _Fleur rouge_."

Yandere's spine went rigid. Slowly, he turned to look towards the source of that soft voice. His lungs leaped up into his throat. " _Bi_... _biju-chan_...."

Artie smiled, clean of blood and free of injury. The color was back in his cheeks; the light in his red eyes. He opened his arms. " _Fleur_."

" _Biju-chan_." Yandere hesitated, clearly recalling the consequences of rushing in the last time. Still, he was drawn to those arms; to that embrace. He fell into it, into Artie, like a lost child.

"I am 'ere."

Blood.

"I am always 'ere."

_Blood_.

There was blood, and Artie was falling, and Yandere was catching him yet again. " _Iie_!" Not again. Not like this. Not again. " _Iie_ , _biju-chan_!" He watched that renewed light fade once more, felt the breaths leave Artie's body and not return. He sobbed, and a voice appeared from the darkness.

"Care to try again?"

Refusal perched on the tip of Yandere's tongue, but the thought of losing his closest friend forever burned in his throat and in his chest. It made his jaw slow, and just like that the scenario was reset.

Artie, standing with arms wide open and the gentlest of smiles on his face. " _Fleur_."

Yandere, stood before him with clothes soaked in blood and knife gripped in hand. " _Iie_."

Dark, lying in wait, eager to show once Yandere was sitting broken and desperate on the floor with his corpse in hand. "Again."

And so they went, again and again, until all Yandere could smell was blood, and all Yandere could see was red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear...

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to check out [alcordrawns](http://alcordraws.tumblr.com) amazing blog! Trust me. You won't regret it.


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